


Judge and Be Judged

by LeannieBananie



Series: The Vault Princess and the Merc [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Antagonism, Arguing, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Mistakes, Murder, Pre-Relationship, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: MacCready thinks Annabelle is a spoiled little vault princess, so when he finds out that she agreed to kill Marowski he's furious and he lets her know it. He doesn't care how much she's paying him, he draws the line at murder. He's put the Gunners and that life behind him and he thought she understood that.Annabelle thinks MacCready is an arrogant, smart mouthed jerk who doesn't know the first thing about her. She's not as weak or stupid as he thinks she is, but this time he's right. She really did screw things up.*Spoilers for Diamond City Blues and Kill Marowski*





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments, leave 'em if you liked it! Let me know what you think and holler if you see any mistakes.
> 
> And I just realized while writing this that I've been spelling MacCready's name wrong. Whoops.

“It was a fucking mistake okay!?” She snapped, turning sharply on her heel to march the opposite direction. 

“A mistake!? A mistake is shorting someone a couple caps on a deal. Or- or eating the last of the Sugar Bombs and putting the box back. This isn’t a mistake, this is fu- murder!” MacCready finished hotly, clutching his rifle so tightly that for a moment Annabelle thought he might break it in half. 

“It was a mistake!” She whirled to glare at him, ignoring the roaming Diamond City guard who gawked at them openly. “I got in over my head okay? Are you happy now!? Happy to hear that I fucked up?” 

She raised her hand and started to tick of her offenses. 

“I never should have agree to confront Cooke for Paul, I never should have agreed to ambush Trish and Nelson Latimer, and I never should have agreed to Malcom Latimer’s stupid deal!” Finished, she sagged against a building, looking up at Mac with angry, guilt-ridden eyes. “It got so fucked up. I couldn’t convince Paul to stay in Diamond City and then he and Cooke got shot. We were outnumbered to begin with and I tried to save them, I did, but Trish was getting away and I couldn’t have her ratting me out to Marowski. The whole thing went fucking sidewise Mac.” 

“But agreeing to kill Marowski? Really?” He sneered incredulously, stunned by her naivety and foolishness. 

“I panicked! Malcolm Latimer accused me of killing his son and while I didn’t put the bullet in him I might as well have! Oh God what am I going to do?” She moaned, bending over at the waist and clutching her head in her hands. 

“Are you going to do it?” MacCready had no sympathy to spare for her right now. He thought he had put all this crap behind him after leaving the Gunners and he thought she understood that, but then she told him that she had accepted a contract to kill Marowski, the chem king pin of the Commonwealth. His stomach churned sourly and his lips twisted into a resentful grimace. This was _not_ what he had signed up for. Following a spoiled vault princess around the Commonwealth, yes. Murdering, no. He felt a slight twinge of hypocrisy, but ignored it in favor of staring at her crumpled figure until she lifted her head to meet his gaze. 

“No. It was never an option. I told you-”

“Yeah, yeah.” He interrupted her, hoisting his pack back onto his back. “You panicked. It’s nice to know I’m not working for a completely cold blooded killer, just an idiot.” She flinched at his harsh accusation, physically recoiling from the words, but she stayed silent. “Are we going or not?” 

“Yes.” She was unnaturally quiet as she lifted her own knapsack, tightening the straps before moving forwards again. Mac would have thought she’d put up a fight, argue with him more. It wasn’t like their business arrangement had ever been peaceful. He told her when she was being a sheltered, naive brat and she told him when he was been an arrogant ass, both of which happened on an almost daily basis. If he was honest, they didn’t really get on that well. She wasn’t a hopeless leader, but she was too soft-hearted and he, well, he was a merc. 

“This is just fu- flippin’ perfect.” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear. “Not only will we have Malcolm Latimer breathing down our neck, but Marowski isn’t going to let this go either. So we’ll need eyes in the back of our head regardless. Just great.” 

Annabelle ignored him in favor of hunching her shoulders and staring resolutely at the ground. She wanted to apologize for getting them into this mess, but knew he would throw the words back in her face and part of her knew that she deserved it. Nothing MacCready said could be worse than what she was already saying to herself. Except his crack about her being a cold blooded killer. But even that was mostly true and she couldn’t deny it, but it still stung, sharp and caustic like alcohol on an open wound. 

Regardless of what he thought, she was a different woman from the one who had stepped into that cryo-vault. Both physically and emotionally. Gone was the perfectly coiffed hair, blush pink lipstick, and freshly laundered dress. Gone was the polite, soft spoken homemaker with the law degree she had never intended to use. In their place was messy, tangled hair hastily tied with a scrap of leather, chapped lips and sunburnt cheeks. Her knuckles were bruised, palms calloused from her ever growing familiarity with combat. If he thought she was soft now, he had no idea how lost and confused she had been all those months ago. 

She was stronger now and even though she knew she couldn’t afford to let sentimentality get in the way when it came to her hunt for Shaun sometimes that was easier said than done. It didn’t mean that she was as inept as MacCready assumed. In fact sometimes she felt things more keenly than she wanted to, emotions crowding out good sense in their clamor to be felt. Which is why they found themselves in their current predicament. 

Latimer had approached her in the market square, enraged and shouting accusations and all Annabelle had been able to see was Nelson’s expressionless face, his eyes blank in death. Malcolm Latimer had lost his son forever and that resonated within her on a painful, relatable level. That anguish had clouded her judgement and even though she knew Mac was right, that this was more than a simple mistake, all she wanted to do was forget about the entire situation. 

Not that he would let her do that. She could hear him mumbling under his breath over the sound of their footsteps and the subdued clank of her armor. 

_Does he ever shut up?_

She ground her teeth together, clenching her jaw to stifle the irritation that threatened to spill forth. Despite their near constant bickering, they were a surprisingly good team and she didn’t think she was a terrible person to work for. As much as his smart mouth annoyed her, his constant quips and snarky humor also eased some part of her that almost constantly ached with loneliness. He didn’t treat her with kid gloves and while he gave her some respect, he also made his disregard for her perfectly clear. It was refreshing in a weird, demeaning sort of way and normally she tolerated his sarcasm with her own sharp tongue, but today she wanted to smack him upside the head with the butt of her rifle. _Anything_ to shut him up. Instead she doubled her pace, trying to put some desperately needed space between her and MacCready. 

It was going to be a long walk back to Sanctuary. 


End file.
